


I Want To Kill You Like They Do In The Movies

by LetsMakeSomeNoiz



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Drowning, M/M, Rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsMakeSomeNoiz/pseuds/LetsMakeSomeNoiz
Summary: Revenge isn't a dish best served cold.Preferably warm. About, oh, say, 98.6 degrees.And Strade was going to get his just desserts soon enough.(Tags added as the story progresses~)





	1. Unkillable Monster

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly just kinda feeling my way here. There may be other appearances by the other boys in the games, but for now we have the strudel and the fox boy.
> 
> Please please heed the warnings. This is not a pretty romance story, and it will not end pretty, either. 
> 
> Also! If you want to be my beta reader, I do need one ^^ Life gets a bit busy sometimes so it would be nice to have someone double check my work and bounce ideas off of!

Liam hadn't asked for this.  
  
Hadn't asked for any of this bullshit, if he was being totally and completely honest.  
  
One minute, he was at this pub waiting for his friend to show up so they could eat, and the next minute, he was a prisoner in this creep's basement.  
  
Well, the escalation hadn't been that neat.  
  
This man-Strade, he had introduced himself as-had seemed completely nice at first. A welcome addition while he waited for his friend to arrive. \

As the hour grew later, however, and his friend finally texted him an abundance of apology texts, promising they would meet up tomorrow evening and that they would pay for everything, he decided to leave.  
  
It was only when he was leaving that he sensed he was being followed, and was eventually overpowered by Strade, but not before giving him a huge bite, that of which he seemed to rather enjoy.  
  
In the basement, he had been subjected to torture the likes of which he had only ever witnessed in rather brutal tv shows and movies, and even those had managed to turn his stomach.  
  
Many times he wanted to give in.

When Strade whipped his knife out, pushing it along his smooth, flat stomach, leaving tiny rivers of blood behind.

When he forced Liam face first onto the cold, dirty basement floor, pushing inside of him hard enough to tear.

When he drilled a hole into his foot, able to stifle his screams for only so long, before they came out as hoarse, choked cries.

That time he decided to push his face underwater multiple times into the filthy sink, threatening to drown him under his hand.

Yet, through it all, here he was-bruised, beaten, sore, but alive. Strade staring at him in what might have been disbelief.

"Liebling, you've lived longer than I thought. I should have given you more credit!" Strade exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear as he stood before him.

Slowly, Liam lifted his head, one eye squinched close, purple and sore, the other pale blue staring back at Strade, concealing his anger just below the surface, trying to look as pathetic as possible.

"Really, I should kill you. I don't have time for another pet..."

Ah, that's right, Ren... Liam remembered him fondly. He had been kind to him, at least.

"...but, I don't want to. Perhaps Ren could use a friend."

Strade turned, Liam watching his movements, though he moved just out of his line of sight, only returning when he held a metal, collar like device in his grasp. Strade leaned down, carefully clamping it around Liam's throat. It didn't choke him, it just settled there.

A heavy weight.

Ownership.

He seemed proud of himself as he retracted, grinning.

"There. Now, let's untie you. Only if you're good." He warned seriously, to which Liam nodded.

After affirming Liam wouldn't do anything brash, Strade untied his wrists, yanking him up by his arm.

He nearly yelped at having to support his weight on his foot, though it wasn't for long as Strade scooped him up easily into his arms, as if he weighed nothing.

Surely he had lost weight while being under Strade's 'care, but being carried around like this was demeaning.

As frightened and bodily exhausted as he was, Liam had to admit, he was...

...shocked, to say the least, to see the state of Strade's home.

It was...rather nice. Very nice, actually.

Everything looked neat, clean, and unnervingly normal.

It pissed him off further, to be honest.

The fact that he was only prolonging this facade that he was just a friendly, do good neighbor with a normal household, a normal home...

His eyes moved past the living room, which held a rather comfortable looking leather couch, coffee table, chairs and television before being carried to a door, which Strade nudged open with his foot.

Strade deposited Liam down onto the bed unceremoniously with a flump, a soft "Oof" leaving Blaze's lips.

"Wait here, I've got a medical kit here somewhere." '

 _As if I could move_...' Liam thought bitterly, curling up on the bed on his side.

He only had a moment alone with his thoughts, however, as before he knew it, he heard Strade re-entering the room, placing the medical kit on the bed before grabbing Liam's ankle, yanking him towards him.

The raven's eyes watered with the pain, crying out a little bit against his control as he looked up at Strade, who was grinning down at him.

"Ah, don't quiet yourself, my pet." Strade intoned quietly, almost sweetly, reaching a hand forward to, somewhat roughly grasp Liam's chin.

"You sound so pretty when you're in pain."

Liam stayed silent, watching as Strade dumped (more) antiseptic on his wound, wincing in pain.

"Just a minute..."

The stitching was worse, but at least it was quick and over before he could wallow in the pain much, and before he knew it, his foot was being wrapped up with soft white bandages.

"See? Not so bad, right?" He said cheerfully, releasing Liam's foot, which he pulled closer to himself, carefully sitting up.

"Thank you..." He said quietly, certain it would be better to be kind to his kidnapper rather than lash out at him. Apparently, his point was proven correct, as Strade grinned widely.

"You're welcome, liebling. Now, normally, I wouldn't just leave without tying you up, but in these circumstances..." And with that, he tapped against the metal collar against Liam's neck. "...you're not going to be going anywhere anytime soon. Unless, of course, you enjoy barbecue?"

Liam wrinkled his nose at the tasteless remark, causing Strade to laugh again. "Aha, you're so cute. Be a good boy while I'm gone, okay?" He nodded, watching with tired blue eyes as Strade left the room-the door open, a cruel, sick reminder that, certainly, he could leave his room, but not the house.

Never the house.

At least Strade's absence would give him much needed time to think. There had to be a way out of here, and if there was, he was going to discover it.

For now, though, he was exhausted, and he couldn't walk about much on a fucked up foot.

His eyes traveled over to his bedside, where there sat a water bottle and an energy bar.

Carefully, he crawled over to it, ripping the wrapping off of the bar to nibble at it, sipping the water when bits got caught in his throat. A little dry, but given the circumstances, better than he had expected.

Clearly, Strade didn't plan on killing him. No, just keeping him hostage like the sick fucker he was. He stood a real chance of survival, so long as he didn't piss Strade off, and so far, he had done pretty well at doing just that, even if he always wanted to bite a few choice words at him.

But…

...Liam was coming to the conclusion that he wanted to do more than just survive.

He was going to kill the motherfucker.

Not right away, of course.

For one, he was in no condition to even walk, much less kill someone. Any attempts at Strade’s life any time soon would only prove to be fatal on his part.

And for another…he had to come up with just the right punishment.

He wanted Strade to suffer.

It was only fair, right?


	2. (Un)Settled In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam ponders murder for a bit before getting cleaned up.

Now that the source of his constant, ever-present alarm and unease had left the general vicinity, Liam truly felt his body sag with the tension that had just barely been holding it together.

He allowed himself to lay across the bottom of the bed, then grimaced as he felt greasy strands of black hair fall upon his face. While he didn’t consider himself vain, he did like to keep clean, and the fact that he could literally feel a thin layer of grime covering his body was giving him all kinds of nasty feelings. That, and the pimple sitting just below the surface on his forehead. 

With a grumble, he managed to sit up, his eyes once again landing upon that open door. He imagined slamming Strade’s head in between the frame and the door’s edge multiple times. The lovely, sickening cacophony of cracks it would make, before he would eventually crumple to the floor, a lifeless heap.

No, that wasn’t good enough, though. He didn’t deserve an ending as easy as that. It would be much too kind, and after all that Liam had been through, the very last thing he felt towards Strade was kindly…

Foregoing his murderous intentions for the time being, he glanced around the rest of his room. 

Besides the bed he sat upon, there was a dresser in the corner with no personal effects upon or around it. Across from the dresser was a window. Curious, he stood upon his one good foot, limping over the short distance.

The window looked upon a perfectly normal neighborhood, complete with green grassy lawns, white picket fences..probably smiling neighbors that threw barbecues and cook outs every weekend, meanwhile having not the faintest idea that their next door neighbor was a complete and utter psychopath.

Because he’s charming. His mind helpfully supplied, scoffing and rolling his eyes, as he limped away from the window and towards the door.

Glancing down the hall, he saw a couple of doors, one slightly ajar that looked like it could be a bathroom, and another that was closed, but he could hear faint noises coming from it.

Probably best to get clean before I explore any further… He thought, managing to make his way to what was indeed the bathroom, pushing it quietly closed behind him. 

Subconsciously, Liam glanced at his reflection in the mirror, before quickly looking away, terrified at what he had seen.

He knew, of course, in order to get the blood clotted off of his forehead and check his black eye, he would have to look in the mirror, but he hadn’t quite been prepared for what he had witnessed.

Taking a deep breath, he braced his hands upon the porcelain sink, before looking up again.

Long, dark hair hung limply on either side of his tan face, which was mottled with bruises. One brown eye was rendered okay, while the other was nearly squeezed shut. Carefully, he reached his fingertips up to touch the blood at his forehead, content to see it had clotted and didn’t seem too serious. 

“Small victories, I guess…” He whispered to himself, voice hoarse from misuse. 

Turning away from the mirror, he directed his attention to the bathtub, then to his foot. Considering he had just had it cleaned and bandaged, he didn’t want to risk infection by getting it wet with a shower, so he moved to turn on the faucet for a bath, propping his leg outside to rest on the lip of the tub.

He scrubbed at his hair with a shampoo that smelled like the forest, and his body with an equally musky scent, trying to rid himself of every remnant of dried blood that he could, wincing whenever he would brush past a cut or bruise. 

The tub’s water had become dark and murky with his washing, that of which he was careful to rinse down with the head of the shower nozzle. He had the faintest feeling Strade wouldn’t appreciate his leaving the tub considerably dirtier than he found it…

There were a few towels hanging on a rack near the tub, both pale tan in color. 

He grabbed one, moving to wrap it around his waist, before he began limping out of the bathroom, casting one last glance at the door from where he could still hear faint noises.

‘Not today…’ He thought tiredly, shutting his door behind him and moving to stand in front of the dresser, carefully opening a drawer. 

He hadn’t been expecting to find anything inside, but sure enough, there were neatly folded piles of what appeared to be grey shirts and sweatpants. 

“Wonder who these belonged to…”

He removed a pair of each, sitting on the bed to shuffle the pants on slowly, then the shirt. 

Both were perhaps a size too large, but better than the clothes he had been tortured in, which remained in a heap by the door.

As Liam was about to curl up on the bed again, he both felt and heard his stomach curdle and growl, reminding him that he was very much a hungry human being who needed food to survive, regardless of the fact that he was kidnapped in a madman’s house. 

He sighed, resting one hand upon his stomach.

“It’s been a while since that protein bar…let’s hope he’s normal when it comes to his eating habits, at least…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a short one! I get ideas for this story and I tend to write them in either short bursts or lengthy sit downs. The next chapter will be longer! And I have decided a couple of the other boys will have at least cameos in this. Hopefully this was enjoyable ^^
> 
> Also~ I'm thinking of once weekly updates? Maybe twice weekly if I can manage. We'll see how it goes.


End file.
